


my melancholy baby

by hyuckyang



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Jazz-Vibes, Kissing, M/M, Romance, Sexual Tension, Sneaking Out, hand kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 14:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19175170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyuckyang/pseuds/hyuckyang
Summary: Mark finds himself falling (deeper) for his best friend underneath the dim lights of an 'off the grid' Jazz bar.





	my melancholy baby

**Author's Note:**

> ''Come to me my melancholy baby  
> Cuddle up and don't be blue  
> All your fears are foolish fancy, maybes  
> Why you know, honey, that I'm in love with you.'' - my melancholy baby / frank sinatra.

''Do you ever miss the way singing to deaf ears feels like?'' 

 

The night had long along fallen upon the skies of New York City, creating deep shadows that carry secrets no other than the city residence understood. Mark surely didn't understand them, he was just a simple human passing by in the grand scale of things — a speck in the midst of the never sleeping city, after all. Last time he checked, the clock had just surpassed midnight, indicating the fresh start of a new day. That feels like lifetimes ago because he is still wide awake, with nothing but the small sliver of moonlight to keep him entertained. Oh, and Donghyuck that had taken it upon himself to switch roommates last minutes because ' _Johnny snores too damn loud_ '. 

 

''What do you mean?'' Mark asks, voice slightly husky due to the strain it went through just hours ago at their concert. He manages to turn his body just enough to face Donghyuck's side of the room, without really noticing the ache in his limbs that he knew was there. 

 

''Like,'' Donghyuck follows his movements until he is facing Mark as well. Despite the room being poorly lit, Mark can easily spot a certain hint of a twinkle in his doe eyes. ''Singing just because you want to sing. Singing without any eyes or ears examining the way you hit your high notes or the way you carry out a tone. Just,'' he takes a deep breath, ''Singing.'' 

 

Mark understands what he is indicating immediately. It's not a challenge to, after all, this is a phenomenon that is not unheard of in their industry. At first, it starts off with an indescribable amount of love for music. A love that goes beyond the thrive for a stable career (and a stable life). Instead, they chose to pursue music and if everything goes right, before they know it, they are out there in the world touring cities they have never even heard of. Mark isn't sure where it dawns to them that some days, the music they had so much admiration for had started to feel more like a chore than an actual passion. Perhaps it's in the midst of the never-ending flight sessions, or maybe it's in the early hours of the morning where their bodies cry out for a simple five hours of good night sleep — whatever it is, it must be different for all of them. 

 

''I do,'' Mark says without a single moment of hesitation. ''I truly do.''

 

His statement seems to have triggered something inside of Donghyuck's brain because as swift as the speed of light, Donghyuck makes his way to his side of the room. Mark barely blinks before discovering his best friend hovering over his bed with a glint that screams mischief. ''Get up. We are going somewhere.'' 

 

''Where?'' Mark questions, as he finds his own two hands pulling off the light blanket from above his body. It's funny how Donghyuck makes him do things he actually doesn't want to, but he had long ago stopped questioning the beckon that makes him act first and think later that comes along with being his friend.  

 

Donghyuck seems pleased at his rapid-acting and starts catching up to him by pulling on a discarded green hoodie (Mark's) above his head. He speaks up again only when the zipper of the hoodie is resting in the area right between his collarbones. ''I'll show you once when we get there.'' 

 

 

So, Mark finds himself marveling the energetic streets of New York with nothing but a loose sweatshirt and jeans he had been too lazy to return back to the stylists earlier that evening. The early spring breeze feels calming on the small areas of his skin that isn't covered by his clothing. He should've considered wearing a mask, or even a cap to disguise himself, but there was only so much his mind could handle and to be frank, he can't find it in himself to give a proper shit right now. Despite the fact that exhaustion was slowly engulfing all of his senses, he never felt more awake than this moment right here. 

 

They walk for a while; Donghyuck with confident and agile steps, and Mark with curious feet right behind him. They don't speak much, just Mark filling out the silence by pointing out billboards here and there that catch his attention. Donghyuck hums at his words, but it's prominent to see that he is more focused on getting to their desired destination, wherever that may be. 

 

At some point in their journey, Donghyuck's warmer hand had wrapped itself around Mark's wrist. A safety precaution, unquestionably, but the touch felt nice nonetheless. It's easy to find yourself slipping through the cracks of the hectic city, but Donghyuck was there as a reminder, an anchor to ground him on his feet. It's quite funny to think about how Mark should be the comforting presence. He was the one that was fluent in the language and the one that lived in this exact city for a good part of his childhood, yet here he was, allowing Donghyuck to guide him blindly. 

 

''I read about this place in a forum on Naver. It doesn't exist in the tourist guides — it barely had its own website but from the pictures I've seen, I think it's exactly what we need,'' Donghyuck explains as he comes to a halt in an alleyway far off the main street. It's only at this moment Mark realizes that he has no idea where they have gone, or even how long they have wandered. 

 

''Donghyuck, what is this place?'' Mark can't help but dart his head around the alleyway. Sparkles of fear ignite in his chest as he thinks about the million reasons of how this could go horribly wrong. They were idols first and foremost — sure, they weren't the most popular in the bunch but they were famous enough for this to be a safety hazard. Second of all, they didn't tell a single soul about their were-beings, which was a whole other problem in itself. Lastly, he has seen movies — alleyways like this one were at the beginning of every thriller movie, and he most certainly didn't want to be robbed, mugged or hell, killed tonight. They have a whole tour they had to finish off, they are simply too busy for such things. 

 

''Don't worry about it, you'll see,'' Donghyuck smiles at him, a smile that hits the pause button on all off Mark's worries. He takes a couple of steps deeper into the alleyway, and motions Mark to come along. ''This is it.''

 

'It'was a small metal door that barely fit one normal sized man, with the words _Jazz_ and _Live music_ scribbled right at the center of it. The words look faded off, plausibly a result of years and years of facing what little sun that managed to invade the alleyway. Other than that, there was nothing that showed the character of the place, or what could possibly be hiding behind the ominous doorway. 

 

Donghyuck gives him one final look, before pushing the door open. 

 

 

''Greetings, gentlemen,'' an elderly man behind the bar smiles in their direction as the door closes from behind them. His eyes don't hide the surprise he must feel about the fact that someone had walked into his bar during such an hour of the day, and Mark can't blame him.  Distantly, he hears Donghyuck greet him back with an enthusiastic voice, but Mark was too captivated with the interior of the area to return the greeting back properly. 

 

The interior is everything out of a90's gangster movie — imagine _The Godfather_ -esque. Dim lights with dark furniture and equally as dark walls. The only true contrasting subjects are the endless frames of pictures scattered around the area. Some of the frames contain pictures that look worn out, judging by the yellow tint to them, while others seem like they were taken just yesterday. Pictures of families, regulars and even some familiar celebrities decorated the place so nicely. In a couple of places, there is even awards and other novelties as well, which made Mark wonder just how much history this place truly possessed. 

 

There's still smoke lingering around the air, indicating that guests were occupying the vicinity prior to their arrival. As far as Mark could tell, there was no one other than them and the bartender here right now. Thankfully. After chatting with the bartender (and the owner of the bar) for a while, they had received permission to use the open stage up until the closing time after they had told him that they were singers, which was an hour from now. More than enough time to succeed in whatever Donghyuck's mission for tonight might be. 

 

As Donghyuck took his place behind the microphone, the kind elderly man flickered one spotlight on, the spotlight that shone directly on that specific spot on the stage. Donghyuck was nowhere near unfamiliar with the shining lights, so he barely flinched as the lights turned on. Instead, he just fluttered his eyes close, and began humming a tune Mark couldn't recognize. There are a grand piano and several other instruments behind him, but since no one was playing them, all they had was Donghyuck's emotion-filled voice filling the room. Not that they truly need anything else. 

 

Mark is sitting in the round table closest to the stage, with his eyes set solid on his best friend. Donghyuck is still plainly humming, trying to find the tone of his voice. His body is slightly swaying along with his thoughts as well as if there was already a song playing in his mind, but Mark was too far away to properly hear it.  

 

Until ultimately, Donghyuck flutters his eyes open and begins to sing. His gaze lands on Mark's right away, and he makes no attempt in making it journey any further from there. 

 

They perform next to each other as frequently as every other day and has been doing so for years now in so many different places, but more often than not, he is too busy to take in Donghyuck's emotions as he sings. Granted, their songs are usually upbeat and fun, and far unlike the romantic 50's Jazz song he had settled on singing tonight. The thing is, Donghyuck sounds so enchantingly good right now though, something so different from how he usually sounds like. Each word that slips through his lips sound like a spell, a spell that is certainly working it's magic because Mark finds himself completely hooked. 

 

He has no idea where Donghyuck has ever heard this song since he himself has only heard it back when he lived with his parents, but figures he would play into the dramatics of the scene. Back then, he had no clue of what the words could've possibly meant, but now, in Donghyuck's broken English, the words leave him flushed all the way to his toes. It's silly, it surely is, but as Donghyuck moves from one song to another with words so romantic that people in this day and age only deem as fictional, and Mark finds himself trapped deeper and deeper into the spell that is Donghyuck's singing. 

 

Under the spotlight, Mark can recognize the shimmers above Donghyuck's eyelids that he had carelessly ignored to wash off. There's still a hint of lip tint left on his cloud-like lips as well, and if their makeup artists ever found out about his poorly night routine, he would have to cut his ears off because of their nagging. But that's not important, and Mark hopes Donghyuck can deal with all of that because for some reason, the shimmers that he usually doesn't pay any mind to seem so much more alluring under the bright lights. The lights that only shine on Donghyuck. And Mark, well Mark thinks that he has never looked prettier than this moment right here. 

 

He snaps out of it when Donghyuck's elegant voice eventually fades out. His eyes are clouded with something Mark can't understand, and they are barely open as they give him a long-drawn look. His fingers, that were wrapped around the microphone stand, direct him to join him on the stage, which he does without any procrastination. ''Play the piano, will you?'' Donghyuck asks him, his voice being picked up from the microphone only partly. 

 

Mark nods. ''Of course.'' 

 

The piano keys feel foreign underneath his fingertips. It's been a while since he had played the instrument, nevertheless in such a carefree manner. He searches in the back of his mind for a tune, perhaps the chords to one of his mother's favorite Jazz songs that she so loved to play every Saturday morning. It's a song Mark knows Donghyuck has heard multiple times since Mark had played it in the dorms during those days where his heart yearned the warmth of his mother. 

 

Donghyuck's lips stretch out in a hidden smile as recognition fall on him. His braces himself with the melody, until the cue for his part rolls around. He turns the microphone stand around until he is facing the piano behind him, instead of where the stage overlooks the crowd. After all, the only crowd they had tonight was each other, and the deep hours of the night. 

 

In the middle of the song, Mark's fingers start to move around on their own accord, so he takes the chance by directing his attention to Donghyuck instead. Unbeknown to him, Donghyuck was already looking at him with eyes as bright as the moonlight, all due to the help of the spotlight. When Donghyuck finds out that Mark's attention is on him, he starts to slowly shuffle closer to the piano, before eventually leaning against the black sleek lid, right across from his seat. The smile on his face never flutters, matter of fact, it only grows wider by the second. 

 

The song is nearing its end, and Mark dreads what it means. He doesn't want to be pulled out of whatever bubble they have built around them, but there are only so many ways he can stretch out the song and Donghyuck has already long ago just opted to hum since there are no words left to sing. As Mark accepts the inevitable, he presses down on the final key and listens to it fade out right under his fingers. 

 

''Enjoying yourself?'' Donghyuck asks, voice barely above a whisper. Perhaps he was fearing the snap that could end the dreamland they were in as well. 

 

''Very much,'' Mark confirms and follows Donghyuck with his gaze as his best friend gets nearer and nearer before finally taking a seat next to him on the piano bench. The bench could barely contain one person, but somehow, they made it work. ''Are you?'' 

 

Now that Donghyuck has left his place underneath the spotlight, the glistening shimmer above his eyes exists no longer, but that doesn't mean that there a dullness to him. The aura he has is still just as radiant, and even more so this close.  Somewhere deep inside of him, he knows what all of this means, and what he is feeling betokens, but if there's one thing Mark was bad at, it's to sort out his emotions. Especially emotions such as these ones. So he ignores them.

 

''I really am,'' Donghyuck sighs. ''You forget how your voice sounds without a cheering crowd accompanying it sometimes.''

 

Mark hums in agreement, fingers still caressing the piano keys. Donghyuck's eyes follow along with the movements of his fingers as his shoulder slightly brushes against his encouragingly. ''Continue on playing, we still have half an hour left.'' 

 

And Mark doesn't need to be told twice as his fingers return back to moving along the keys, this time pressing down just enough to give life to the bar once again. He doesn't know how long he sits there, playing with all of his mighty with Donghyuck pressed close to him on his right side. He's not singing, hell, Mark can't even hear a single breath from him. It's only Mark and the piano in the room. 

 

It feels great, better than all the latest concerts had felt like combined. He isn't ungrateful — far from it, but it gets exhausting and tiring to perform the same handful of songs day in and day out without any room for creativity or peace of mind. At this point in his life, most of the choreography they do feel as normal to him as walking or breathing — almost like a routine that eventually engraved itself in his mind. And where they perform had stopped being something extraordinary as well, since he finds himself often mixing up the cities and countries because they are everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He isn't sure if this is exactly what he had dreamed of back when he was a child. All he wanted was to show the world his talent, using music to do so, but lately, that passion is nothing but flickering candlelight. 

 

''Why aren't you singing? You know this song,'' Mark asks, while he lets his melody slow down just a bit to allow Donghyuck to properly hear him. 

 

Donghyuck shrugs with a grin, even though it barely reaches his eyes. For some reason, he is still looking at Mark in the same gaze as he did when he first started singing just moments ago. His grin flatters as Mark's own hand takes a hold of his, and places it above the piano keys. ''Well, if you aren't going to sing, you can help me play.'' 

 

It's a quite clumsy way to play the piano since Donghyuck didn't know the proper arrangements to the song in his mind, but he allows his hand to obey whatever pace Mark set for them. Both of their eyes are on their tangled hands, watching the way Mark's hands direct Donghyuck's with no verbal orders in fascination.  

 

Abruptly, Donghyuck stops his hands from moving, which makes Mark rest as well. He turns around to ask what the matter was, but the words get stuck in his throat when Donghyuck slowly grabs a proper hold of Mark's hand and brings it closer to him. More specifically, to his lips. He lets it leisure around the area as his eyes find Mark's discreetly. 

 

The smoke filled room feels more closed in, leaving Mark heaving out staggered breaths. He wants to tear his eyes away from Donghyuck's, but at the same time, he wants to figure out just what his best friend had in mind. He can feel Donghyuck's own breathing hit his knuckles, which leaves a ray of shivers traveling down his spine. ''Donghyuck?'' his voice cracks in question. 

 

''Just,'' Donghyuck closes his eyes and brings their hands even closer to him, ''Just give me a second.'' 

 

As he is speaking, a hint of lips encounters Mark's skin. There's a fire spreading all across his body, especially in the places Donghyuck is touching him. Their tightly pressed thighs, their brushing shoulders, their hands, Donghyuck's lips that were a hair strand away from kissing his hands. Mark doesn't know if he fears the fact that Donghyuck might actually kiss him, or the fact that Donghyuck will snap out of the trace he was in and actually leave him with this fire inside of him. 

 

His inner dilemma doesn't last for long, because to Mark's wishes (or concern) Donghyuck presses his lips ever so slightly against the knuckle right below his index finger. When Mark fails to conceal the loud gasp that erupts from his lips, Donghyuck pulls away hesitantly before pressing down with even more force on the knuckle next in line. 

 

All Mark can do is watch with awe, the way Donghyuck presses small, but careful kisses on each of his knuckles. All logistics fly out of the window as he observes Donghyuck's soft lips disappear into his flushed skin, as well as the shame he feels when the action brings out a moan or two deep from his chest. When the knuckles on his right-hand come to an end, he quickly replaces it with Mark's left hand and repeats the same pattern. Inside of Mark is an ongoing battle — he doesn't know whether or not it's possible to feel jealous of your own to hands but he sure feels it.

 

''I've always been fascinated by your hands. They play so well,'' Donghyuck purrs against Mark's skin, warm breath hitting the slightly damp surface. His eyes that had been closed this whole time finally tremble, before fluttering open. The intensity of his stare is so forceful, to the point where all the fire inside of Mark's body travels down to one place only, nearing the south of his stomach. 

 

Then, Donghyuck presses a kiss on the final knuckle with allowing him to respond. This time around, he lingers with the kiss with his eyes still boring into Mark's. 

 

''Donghyuck,'' Mark whispers, hands trembling from their place in front of Donghyuck face. He doesn't truly know what he wants to say, so he allows Donghyuck to catch his breath in hopes that he has something in mind.

 

What Donghyuck does instead is to drop Mark's hands coldly right back to his lap. The action makes a strike of disappointment crash into his chest heavily, like an angry lighting bolt in the midst of a mad storm. ''Maybe we should head back.'' 

 

''Oh,'' Mark heaves, before nodding cluelessly. And stupidly. ''Okay.''

 

 

Mark is able to contain himself up until they reach the middle of the alleyway, which is far further than what he had expected himself to. His hand reaches out to Donghyuck's wrist before he can catch himself in the act, and spins him around until they are facing each other. ''You kissed me.'' 

 

''I,'' Donghyuck starts off, clearly startled at Mark's sudden retaliation. Mark isn't the one that usually faces problems head-on, so it's only fair for him to be shocked. Mark isn't sure if this can even count as a problem, at least not yet. ''I kissed your hand.'' 

 

The air feels slightly cooler against his skin this time around. He knows the blame lies in his overheated, and slightly (very) bothered body — but why should he put the blame on that when Donghyuck seems so unbothered about this whole situation? ''You still kissed me,'' he carefully says, voice slightly muffled in the midst of the busy traffic. It always baffles him, the way New York City truly never sleeps. ''Why did you kiss me?'' 

 

''Do I really need a reason as to why I did that?'' Donghyuck snaps back without any heat. The furrowed look on his eyes and the slight pout at the corner of his lips is a sight Mark is more than familiar with at this point. It's something he usually allows to get away with a lot more than he would like to admit, but not this time. Not when something he has wanted so desperately for the bigger part of his whole life lies at the tips of his fingers, urging him to keep on reaching. 

 

''Answer me, Hyuck,'' Mark licks his lips, as his eyes flicker down to Donghyuck's slightly parted ones. There are small, transparent hairs on his chin that rise as a certain cold breeze passes them by. Or maybe he just feels the same way Mark does, and this is just his sensations finally catching up to him. 

 

It's obvious that Donghyuck is contemplating what his answer may be. His eyes fly around the walls, the ground and the sky peeking through the alleyway. Everywhere but Mark. Then, he coughs lightly and all the hesitation on his facial feature drift alongside the breeze before it's too late. The glint, the one where his eyes become slightly warmer, paint his dark irises as he parts his lips and sings. '' _Why you know, honey, that I'm in love with you_.'' 

 

This should be a tension-filled situation. In romcoms, this is the part where the protagonist kisses the love of their life senseless. The part that makes the lonely, horny middle-aged mom cry and stare at their husbands' in disappointment because they had never experienced passion like that. But this is reality, and more importantly Mark and Donghyuck, so all he can do is laugh. 

 

''Really?'' Mark asks with a snort. ''Is that the reason why you chose this place?'' 

 

''After spending years and years thinking about how I should confess to you, it was only fair that I do it in a dramatic way, right?'' Donghyuck shrugs with a smile. ''To be fair, I wasn't actually planning on doing it tonight but you playing the piano always does something to me,'' he finishes off with a coy wink.

 

''I can see that,'' Mark laughs and wiggles his fingers in front of Donghyuck's face as a reminder of what went on just minutes ago inside of the bar. 

 

What he doesn't expect is Donghyuck to grab a hold of his hand again, only to press a kiss square on his palm. It's a wet one that makes a bone-chilling coldness invade his body when Donghyuck leaves the spot spit-covered, allowing the air to stick to it. He proceeds to shoot him a confident smirk, but that's the only thing he can do before Mark wraps his arms around his waist and crashes their lips together. 

 

To hell with Sinatra, and all those other Jazz songs — this right here is a grand example of what romance should actually feel like. 

**Author's Note:**

> yes, i did write this in one sitting. yes, i am in my feelings. yes, i want markhyuck (and 127 in general) to get some rest. 
> 
> thank you so, so much for reading. please let me know your thoughts by leaving a comment & kudos, my dearest. ily!
> 
>  
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/hyuckyan) / [cc](https://curiouscat.me/hyuckyang)


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